I'm Dying
by Obi the Kid
Summary: Pre-TPM. Obi's POV. Humous Obi-torture. He think's he's dying from a run of the mill illness.
1. Default Chapter

TITLE: I'm Dying (PART 1 of collaboration fic between B.L. Anderson and Obi the Kid)  
AUTHOR: Obi the Kid (hlnkid@aol.com)  
RATING: G  
SUMMARY: Pre-TPM, humor, (Obi is 14). When Obi comes down with a common illness, it's Qui's job to take care of him. Obi POV.  
FEEDBACK: Always appreciated.  
ARCHIVE: Please ask first.  
MY WEBSITE: http://www.angelfire.com/movies/obithekid/  
DISCLAIMER: The characters and venue of Star Wars are copyrighted to Lucas Films Limited. The characters not recognizable from this venue are copyrighted to Tracy C. Knight. The story is the intellectual property of Tracy C. Knight and is copyrighted to her. She makes no profit from the writing or distribution of this story.  
  
NOTES: Part 2 of this fic will be written by B.L. Anderson. You can check out our other 2 combo fics on my website, the stories are: Never Alone and From a Certain Point of View.  
  
SPECIAL NOTES: Thanks to Brenda for another fun collaboration!!  
  
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I'm Dying (PART 1)  
==================  
  
Well, it's been a whole 24 hours now, and I feel horrible. We just got back from this strange planet and Master Qui-Gon is briefing the Council on our mission. I asked him if I could lie down for a bit. I think that the Tevram Flu got a hold of me. Force this is awful, I'm dying, I know I am. My Master will have pity on me, he loves me.  
  
Finally he gets home, took him long enough. My body aches all over, I'm sweating, my head is gonna explode. "Masterrrrrrrr?"  
  
He wanders into my room. "Yes, padawan. How do you feel?"  
  
Like a pile of Bantha.... "I don't feel good Master. Can you feel my forehead...I think I'm running a fever." He places a hand on my skin and sighs.   
  
"You feel a bit warm." That's the understatement of the decade.  
  
"Masterrrrr...I am burning up. Ohhhhh...my stomach hurts. Can you make me a hot bath? I really think I need a hot bath Master." He's staring at me now. Masters just don't understand what we sick padawans go through.   
  
"If you are warm, you should take a cool bath to attack the fever. I don't know Obi-Wan, the inhabitants of that planet did not seem to be ill. Are you sure you are not just trying to get out of an exam tomorrow?"  
  
Oh, great. I'm here dying, and he accuses me of lying about it. "I don't have an exam. I feel like crap. Make it betterrrr." I don't think he's taking any pity on me.  
  
"Obi-Wan, take off your boots and relax. A little sleep will do you wonders." I wonder how he knew that my feet were achy too.  
  
"I can't lean forward to pull them off, can you help me Master? Pleeeease? Oh man...I really think I'm dying here...is it possible for one's head to explode?"  
  
My Master removes my boots and sets them at the foot of the bed, then he pulls the blanket up around my shoulders. "There, now sleep."   
  
"Can you rub my feet?" Okay, so I'm asking a bit much, but they really do ache.  
  
"No padawan, I will not rub your feet. This is not a massage parlor. I want you to rest." He left my room without another word.  
  
===========  
  
For the most part, he's a good Master, but sometimes he does things that really irritate me. Like flipping on the lights when my head is exploding. I was sleeping fine, until he came back into my room.  
  
"Masterrrrrrr, turn the light off. Noooo, why are you torturing me like this? Masterrrrr?" He laughs as he approaches the bed once more.  
  
"Just checking on you, to be sure you're still alive." This is fun, I am near death and he wants to play games.   
  
"I just wanna sleep Master, hmmm...can't I sleep for a bit longer? I need rest. I really do think I'm dying. This is...you are so mean to me." Master Qui-Gon keeps the light on, no doubt to torture me even further. "Please turn the light off Master. Pleeeeeease."  
  
"Oh don't we get whiny when we get sick? You need to get up for a bit. I want you to force some liquids down, and a little food." FOOD? Is he NUTS? My stomach is doing back flips and he wants me to eat?  
  
"I don't think I can eat anything Master. Just want to sleep. Yeah, sleep will make it all better." It's no use, his evil half has taken over. I hate it when he gets like this.  
  
"Up you go Obi-Wan." He pulls the blankets off of me, trying to freeze me to death. I try to grab them back, but it's no use. "It will do you no good to sleep all day long. Come on."  
  
"Nooooo Masterrrrrr...I don't wanna get uuuup. Cooooold. Give me back my blanket. You are trying to kill me aren't you? It's so cooooold in here. Turn the heat up." How can I be freezing but burning up at the same time? This Tevram Flu is viscous. I'd rather be trampled by Bantha's. I got my blanket back though. Take that Master.  
  
"Obi-Wan, get up, or you are going to see the healers. I will give you to the count of three. One, two..."  
  
I throw the blanket onto the floor in disgust. "Okay, I'm getting up, jeez...Mr. Drill Sergeant...you remember this the next time you feel like hell." That was the wrong thing to say. "OW! Masterrrr...that hurts...my braid is not a leash...Ow ow ow ow...." He drags me out of the room, I'm staggering all over the place. Finally I find a chair.  
  
"Being whiny and cranky will get you nowhere. Got it?"  
  
"No. You know when you are sick, I wait on you. Why can't you return the favor?"  
  
"Because you are able to walk on your own, and you are certainly talking up a storm, so you can't feel that bad."   
  
He looks at me...I see that smile in his eyes...he is such an evil man sometimes. "I wanna go back to bed. I wanna sleep. I wanna let myself die in peace." I don't think he believes me when I say that I am dying...I guess I look okay on the outside. Inside? My body has waged war with itself. I can feel myself slowly losing the battle to stay upright. My neck has become rubber, my head is just bobbin' around. Can't keep my eyes open...uh oh...I feel sick. "Masterrr? I need...oh man...uh...bathroom...feel like..."  
  
"Obi-Wan your face is turning green. Go now. Hurry. Don't you dare make a mess of this kitchen. GO!"  
  
I take off running, my eyes now open as I find my way to the bathroom...just in time. Ten minutes later, I am leaning against the tiled wall, wondering how many lungs I just lost. My Master strolls in.  
  
"Feel better?"   
  
Looking up at him...I squint when he turns on the lights. What is with this man and this constant torture with lights? "Masterrrr...I just barfed up four lungs, can't feel my face...and you turn the lights on? Can't you stop thissss? Turn 'em off Master. Hurts my eyes. I don't like you, do you know that? You just let me suffer like this...you don't care. I want my bed and blanket. Help me up Master?" He extends his hand, and helps me to stand. As I wander into the common area, I turn towards my bedroom...then...HE stops me. I feel a hand on top of my head, turning me away from my room.   
  
"Kitchen, now. Fluids."   
  
He has GOT to be kidding?? He wants me to drink after that? I knew it, the man has gone insane. I am NOT going back into that kitchen, much less gonna try to put anything into my stomach. No Way!!!  
Yet my feet are leading me back to the kitchen again. I can't seem to stop them. "Masterrrrr...nooooo...come oooon. Just...let me go back to bed...pleaaaaaaaseeee. Don't make me cry Master, because I will. I mean it." This is not working...not working at all.  
  
"Sit. Stay. Drink."   
  
"Ewwww...this is so nasty Master. Orange juice? Looook? What are those things floating around in there? Masterrrr...I am not drinking that."   
  
"It's orange pulp. It won't kill you, trust me on this. Drink that glass and take these two pills. It will bring your fever down and help with the headache."   
  
Oh, NOW he believes me. I only had to lose the contents of my stomach in order for him to know that I was sick. "Do I have tooo? Please don't make me. What if I can't keep it down? This is not a good idea...I can see projectile pill barfing now...." I can't believe I have to drink this. My Master hates me...yes he does. I drink it, loathing every second of it. The pills are not cooperating at all. "Master, the pills are stuck in my throat. What do I do now? You did this to me, this is your revenge."  
  
"This is not revenge, and the pills are not stuck. Drink that whole glass."  
  
"I don't want to."  
  
"You are not going anywhere until you drink the juice."  
  
"Noooooo...come on Master...it's so disgusting. That pulp stuff is getting stuck in my teeth. Hmmmm...I feel horrible. Want my bed." It's getting worse. My head is really gonna explode this time. The pressure is rising. T-minus ten seconds. "Owwwwww...Masterrrrr...why...hy...hy...is this happening to meeeee. SITH!!"   
  
"Watch your language young man."   
  
Young man. He is so patronizing sometimes. If I drop dead at his feet, think he'd notice? Probably not. "Okay, I drank it all...GAH! Now can I go back to bed?"   
  
"No, I think you should see a healer."  
  
"NO MASTER!! I will be fine, I think. Just let me sleep for the next three days, and I will be as good as new." Wonderful...the healers. I hate that place. "I don't want to go see them Master. My bed is calling me."  
  
"Too late padawan. Healer Terran is on his way. So, make yourself comfortable on the couch."  
  
"Awwww...this bites. I don't like him. His hands are always cold, and he uses all that grease in his hair. And he always calls me 'Obi my boy.' You are cruel. OW! Pain, in my head. Those pills didn't help at all." Master Qui-Gon is just starring at me.   
  
"You took them five minutes ago. And Terran is one of our finest Master Healers. He likes you."  
  
"Well, I don't like him. He smells funny, like medicine...ewwwww." I mean it too. Healer Terran smells just like the Medi-Ward. The man should learn to bathe more regularly.  
  
"He works in the Medi-Ward. Sit down, rest yourself. You're starting to look a bit pale."  
  
As usual, my Master knows how to understate everything. "Starting too? You know Master, if I didn't feel like I'd been sat on by a Hutt, I'd be laughing right now. But, THIS IS NOT FUNNY! I am dying...can't you see that? Look at my eyes...they're all bloodshot...and look...my hands won't stop shaking. My throat feels like there are knives wedged in there, my head is, very soon, going to explode...you should have some sympathy for me, I am your apprentice after all. You should love me and pity me. As my Master, you need to see that all my needs are met, and help me to beat this. But you? No, you force me to drink juice with little chunks floating in it, swallow pills that lodge in my throat, and you won't let me sleep. I just wanna go back to bed...please Masterrrr...let me gooooo...I wanna sleep this off...."   
  
"Are you finished?"  
  
"No." Boy, I wish my brain would stop my lips from moving sometimes.   
  
"Then I shall ask you again. Are you finished?"  
  
"Yes, Master." Flopping myself onto the couch, I wait for the healer. Master Qui-Gon sits next to me. He has no pity at all for what I am going through. Must be from being raised by a small green Troll. I am gonna try a different approach here. "Master?"  
  
"Yes Obi-Wan?"  
  
"What do you do when you feel like I do? I mean, I really don't feel well at all. I may die soon, that's how bad it is. When you feel like this, what do you do?"  
  
"I take care of myself. I make sure that I drink fluids and I rest."  
  
He said it...he rests. Why then is my butt outta bed? I should be curled up in the blankets, sound asleep. "Okay, why can't I sleep then? I really want to go back to bed. I am achy all over...even my hair is achy Masterrrr. My head hurts, my fingers hurt, feet, toes, back, face...and let's not even talk about my stomach...you already know what came outta there. All I want is sleep. Take pity on me pleeeeeease? Knock me out or something. Anything? Just make this all go away...ay...ay...hmmph."  
  
"I want to be sure that this is indeed the Tevram Flu, and not something more serious. If it is, then I shall let you sleep, if it's not, the Healer should be able to treat you."  
  
More serious than this? How much worse can one person feel? I am half dead already...on my last leg...I am gonna find who started this Tevram Flu and give them a piece of my mind. They just shouldn't go around giving this to people. Oh no...not again... "Masterrrrr...can you help me to the bathroom...my stomach is talking to me...pleeeeease...uh...this is not good...bye Master...it's been nice knowing you...this is it...." I didn't make it to the bathroom, but my Masters white slippers are just a tad darker in color now. I am falling...ooof...right over on the couch..."Just let me die Master...please. End it here. It's all over for me. You go on without me."  
  
"Obi-Wan, get up. You are not dying, this is just the Flu."  
  
He pulls me up...OW! That hurt. All my energy is drained, I lean over and my head falls onto his shoulder. There is no way I can lift it up. No way, it's over. I'm done. "Just wanna sleep Master...just wanna sleep."  
  
"You can stay as you are, but Healer Terran should be here any minute now, when he arrives, you'll have to let him look you over."  
  
"Oh...h...h...cold hands...Obi, my boy...make him go awaaaaay...don't need him to tell me I'm dying...I already know...watch my head explode Master...bye Obi." My head is just floating now...eyes rollin' around in there... "I see three of you Master. Hello. Uh oh...Obi hears Mr. Cold Hands. He's coming down the hall. Masterrrr...don't let him near me...I wanna go to bed." To late. The door is opening...no no no no no no...not him...I can smell him already...I hate my life.  
  
"Obi my boy, it's good to see you. What seems to be the problem?"  
  
Anything and everything...they're gonna talk about me for an hour...while I just sit here and die.  
  
"Qui-Gon, you are looking well. Obi is dying again I see?"  
  
That's it, make jokes at my expense. I already ruined my Master's favorite slippers, what shall I aim for next?  
  
******  
END of PART 1  
  
COMING SOON: I'm Dying PART 2, by B.L. Anderson  
  
  



	2. Chapter 2

TITLE: I'm Dying (PART 2 of collaboration fic between B.L. Anderson and Obi the Kid)  
AUTHOR: B.L. Anderson (anderson@hiwaay.net)  
RATING: G  
SUMMARY: Pre-TPM, humor, (Obi is 14). When Obi comes down with a common illness, it's Qui's job to take care of him.  
FEEDBACK: Always appreciated.  
ARCHIVE: Please ask first.  
B.L. ANDERSON'S LIAM NEESON WEBSITE: http://www.angelfire.com/al2/lneeson/  
DISCLAIMER: The characters and venue of Star Wars are copyrighted to Lucas Films Limited. The characters not recognizable from this venue are copyrighted to B.L. Anderson. The story is the intellectual property of B.L. Anderson and is copyrighted to her. She makes no profit from the writing or distribution of this story.  
  
NOTES: Part 1 of this fic was written by Obi the Kid. You can check out our other 2 combo fics on Obi's website, the stories are: Never Alone and From a Certain Point of View: http://www.angelfire.com/movies/obithekid/  
  
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I'm Dying (PART 2)  
==================  
  
The door chime sounded and Qui-Gon crossed to answer it. Healer Terran stood with a broad smile. The master invited him in. The healer walked into the room. "Obi my boy, it's good to see you again. What seems to be the problem?" The apprentice didn't answer but just sat looking morose. Terran turned and said, "Qui-Gon, you are looking well. Obi is dying again, I see."  
  
"Yes. He is dying...again. The other times he was dying didn't take, so he has another chance at it."  
  
Terran laughed at the joke but Obi-Wan shot his master a dirty look. "All right Obi, let's have a look at you. I'll bet you aren't quite as sick as you think." He walked over to the sofa where the apprentice was suffering in anguish. Suddenly Obi-Wan drew up and pulled away. "Why what's wrong Obi my boy?"  
  
"Cold hands," he muttered.  
  
The healer chuckled. "They're not as cold as you think. It's just because you may have a fever. Now let's see if you do. Hmm...your temperature is elevated a little, but not enough to be classified as a fever."  
  
"It isn't?" Qui-Gon asked in surprise.  
  
"No, it isn't considered a fever until it reaches 101. So Obi's not so sick. What symptoms do you have Obi my boy?"  
  
"My head is going to explode, can't you tell? It must be huge by now. I'm cold....but he," pointing at Qui-Gon, "won't let me have my blanket. My stomach is turning back flips and he is making me drink juice with...junk floating in it. I'm dying and he thinks it's funny. Can't I just go back to bed and die?"  
  
Healer Terran and Qui-Gon exchanged a bemused look. "Obi my boy, you just have the flu. It's nothing worse than that. I've never heard of anyone dying from Tevram flu. And," he looked at the ceiling thoughtfully, "I don't think I've heard of anyone's head exploding from it either. You should drink fluids...and juice is the best thing to drink. I think Qui-Gon is taking good care of you. But...maybe you should go back to bed and get some rest. You will get better soon if you get plenty of rest."  
  
Without a word, Obi-Wan leaped up from the sofa and hurried to his room. Terran chuckled a little.  
  
"I hardly find it amusing that Obi-Wan is sick, Terran."  
  
"Didn't you see how quickly he left? He isn't so sick Qui-Gon. He only has a mild case of it."  
  
"He's not very sick?"  
  
"No. He hardly has any temperature. I'm sure he feels bad and that just makes him think he is sicker than he really is."  
  
"So...I've been putting up with his whining for nothing?"  
  
"You're not exactly the model patient yourself, Qui-Gon. Need I remind you?" He patted the knight's shoulder and involuntarily Qui-Gon pulled away.  
  
"Your hands sure are cold, Terran."  
  
"Now you sound like Obi-Wan. Just keep him warm and full of fluids. He'll probably be up by tomorrow at the latest."  
  
Qui-Gon toyed with his beard. Obi-Wan was only mildly sick? And yet he kept complaining that he was dying. The master crept to the door of his apprentice's bedroom. He was lying down with the covers pulled high...but was reading the latest graphic novel.  
  
Qui-Gon walked in. "You must be feeling better, Obi-Wan," he said in a somewhat loud voice.  
  
The padawan tried to quickly hide the book. "Ow Master! Don't talk so loud! I've got a headache."  
  
"It doesn't seem to be keeping you from this however." He reached under the cover for the book.  
  
"I have to do something to entertain myself."  
  
"I thought you wanted to sleep."  
  
"All right," the boy said grumpily.  
  
******  
  
Obi-Wan had not been asleep for very long when the light came on and his master's cheerful voice called out, "Time for your juice."  
  
"Aw! Turn the light off! Do I have to drink that...again?"  
  
"Yes. Healer Terran said it would be good for your flu. Now, drink it all down."  
  
The apprentice scrunched up his nose then drank it all in one swallow. "Yuck! That makes me sick."  
  
"If you are well enough to complain, you must be well enough to study."  
  
"Master!"  
  
"You felt like reading earlier. You said you needed something to keep you entertained. Let this entertain you." He laid a data tablet on the bed.  
  
"Boy...a person can't even rest when they are sick..."  
  
"What?"  
  
"Nothing."  
  
******  
  
"Obi-Wan! You're not sleeping, are you?"  
  
"Huh...what? No...no...not me. Wide awake...yes sir. Studying hard."  
  
"Good. You can come to the table now for evening meal."  
  
"Um...couldn't you bring it to me? I really don't feel very strong."  
  
"It will do you good to be out of bed for a while. Come on. That's it. You can make it."  
  
"Master...why are you being so mean to me?"  
  
"I'm not being mean. I can tell you are better, can't you?"  
  
******  
  
"What is this brown stuff? It looks like you got it out of the river."  
  
"It's full of vitamins...which you need right now to get well. I expect you to eat every bite."  
  
"I can't eat this. It smells like barf."  
  
"Obi-Wan!" Qui-Gon said sharply. "That's enough. You've complained all day long. I'm tired of listening to your whining. Healer Terran says you only have a mild case of Tevram flu and that you aren't very sick. I've tried to look after you. You are making it difficult for me to keep my patience. Now eat!"  
  
"All right...all right. Only a mild case? But...I'm dying! I really am, Master."  
  
"No, not yet...but you soon will be if you don't quit whining."  
  
******  
  
"I've been out of bed since evening meal, Master. Can't I go back to bed? Please? I'm so tired...and sleepy. I can't stand another one of these home holo-vids."  
  
"All right. I suppose you have had a long night. Go on to bed...no reading. If you are going to bed, you are going to sleep."  
  
"All right...geez...what a grouch."  
  
******  
  
The next morning when Obi-Wan awoke, he pulled the covers over his head and turned back over...then he sat up. "Wow...I feel a lot better this morning! Healer Terran was right. It was only a mild case. I got over it quickly. Boy...my head didn't explode. It's not even hurting anymore. This is great." He got out of bed and hurried to his master's bedroom. "Master, guess what! You were right. Everything you did was right. I feel so much better this morning."  
  
"Go away," the muffled voice said.  
  
Obi-Wan stepped closer and pulled a blanket back. Underneath was another. He pulled it back only to see yet another. Finally he found the bottom...a mass of tangled damp brown-grey hair. "Master?"  
  
"Go away. I don't feel good. I'm not getting out of the bed today. I'm dying."  
  
Obi-Wan smiled to himself. "Now...that's the wrong attitude Master." He peeled the covers back. "You have to get out of bed for a bit. And you have to drink lots of juice." He pulled at the big hand that hung off the bed. "Come on. That's what you told me. Get up. I'll go call Healer Terran."  
  
"Healer Terran?" Qui-Gon shivered. "No! He has cold hands!" Then he laid back down and pulled the covers up. "Leave me alone. I'm dying."  
  
END  



End file.
